Meh, some new guy decided to make a personal jack-off railroad RP.*shudder*Fuck it, I'm feeling creative, let's freestyle this bitch.

Your life as you know it has always been in the thick, viscous green fluid. Your breath and meals provided for, hunger never known. You watch and observe hundreds of passers-by in great white garments, talking in muffled tones through a barrier you could not break. So much changed that day. Loud alarms went off. everything went red. the fluid started to drain, and the men in white clothes fled. There was red everywhere. Your first gasps of breath, your first motion- thank the gods it came instinctually.So much red. On the walls, everywhere. the people. Thick and bulky, swathed in heavy black gear with faces that resembled horrific monsters from the dregs of your nightmares. They removed the barrier. They hold their hands to you, waiting.What do you do?

A country allows a convicted murderer from of 270 free to his country because of deals for oil.The country where most of the murdered are from enraged and mass insanity grasps the nations. The country then nukes both the other countires off the map, along with the rest of Europe, South America, Africa and the middle east before nuking themselves.The World is suddenly a better place

Sound. You remember the men in white made them. They communicated with them."Whu... Whee... Who..."Damn. Your first words are gargled, unintelligible.The man in black holds something. It reeks of something unidentifiable, but something that puts your teeth on edge. It is oddly shaped- a pole mounted on a grip, with a half-moon coming down from it.The man in black is speaking something now, and beckoning you out. You try again."Wh...What... Is you? Why... here you is?"The man looks curious, and waves several other companions over, jabbering and pointing to you. They all begin mumbling quickly, until a loud crack rings out from the door. One of the men in black slumps to the ground. more red. Rapid crack-at-at-acks from the men in black. A man in white falls into the red, clutching a smaller version of the man in black's tool. The man in black grabs your arm, tugging slightly, motioning out.

Hey, can you do something about a girlcat getting mad at the dorks who hate anthro on /tg/ and /b/ and like serial-murdering them? Preferably with a lot of gore, like she is feeding a WH40K dork his own brain or something, or she sticks a powerdrill bit down Angry Marine's cock, or something? You're pretty good, so I think you can take it from there. Also the cops don't help them because no one cares about nerds.

Gasping for air, you grab the man's shoulders and haul yourself up, crying out with newfound freedom at this joyous movement. The man in black has companions. they are waving black, shiny objects at you, but the man you ride waves them down, and shouts something at them. they stop. You continue your throaty assailing, waving your hands in the air, reveling in your freedom, your first movements.

"what... is you? Where is me?"Your words are strangled, but the man in black is pointing to himself, Saying 'Kyle' Again and again. He removes his horrendous face, revealing a face like those of the men in white. He bares his teeth and holds out his hand. Taking it slowly, he lowers you from your former home and prison."Kyle... Where is we? Who is you?"Kyle bares his teeth again, and nods emphatically. He turns to the fallen men in white, grimacing as if in pain. He points to them, and says,''Bad men. They bring you here. They make you. They make you kill. Kill nice people, like Kyle. You like paining Kyle?"His words are vague, but your mind is beginning to comprehend more. Kyle's compatriots are guarding a portal to a red-lit and red-stained hallway, their tools making the cracking noises now and again."You come with Kyle? Kyle bring you happy place. No pain." Kyle looks desperate now, sweat beading his brow. One of his friends is shouting something, and throws a small metal orb. Kyle covers your eyes, but not your ears as a thunderous roar carries through the chamber. You feel heat, and when your eyes open again, there is much red. Kyle is tugging you urgently down a narrow metal road. A man steps before him, and speaks to Kyle. Kyle stands in front of you, and without replying, aims at the man and fires his noise-tool."We go now." Kyle says, motioning towards the door.

You nod your head and Follow Kyle. Where his friends went, none can say. It seems you walk for ages, Kyle occasionally pushing you down and loosing a few fiery rounds from his Hand-tool. Seeing your confused expression after a particularly long burst of noise, he points to the thing, saying the word 'Gun'.Finally, you reach a large metal door. Kyle goes purple at the sight of this, hissing and spitting loud words you do not know the meaning of. Finally, he stops, and turns his head. he motions you away, and straps another metal orb to a small rectangle beside the door, covered in strange black markings. He presses a red button and runs your way, Covering his head with his arms. Remembering the last one, you do the same. The boom is less pronounced this time, but it still hurts your virgin ears. Kyle takes you by the wrist and hauls you out-A bright, blinding glare greets you, and the earth-above is bright blue. The ground around you is a verdant green, and the wall behind you by contrast is a dull and plain grey."Hey!" Kyle snaps his fingers."This give pain. But you will talk more after it. It teach." He holds up a small black disc and another thing that looks suspiciously like a 'gun'.With that thought, you backpedal until you run against a tall and rough pillar shod in green and brown. "Trust me." Kyle is in front of you now, holding the small device. He inserts the disk as you squeeze your eyes shut......And suddenly, everything is clear. Knowledge of language, ground around, trees, the sky- Basic, but there.

((SKILL GAINED- COMMON INFORMATION-SOCIAL/LINGUISTICS AND GENERAL DATA))"Hey! hey, buddy! You alright? Can you understand me?"Kyle is looking concerned now, and holds his gun away. The memorex device he used to teach you is now on the ground.

Kyle looks at you for a moment before answering. "Uhh. jeez, that memorex musta done more than I thought. Well, I am the... Last," He fairly spits the word. "The last of a special operations team sent by the southern guerrillas army to find what they were doing here, and if possible, stop it." He shrugs helplessly."Listen, we just thought they were making some kinda weapon down there. Turns out we were right. But it weren't no normal weapon. It was YOU. And before you jump to conclusions, no, we wont kill you... unless you get out of hand."

He nods solemnly in return, accepting the device and slipping it into a pocket."I've heard stories of what they were trying to do. Their records say that they had about fifteen failed versions before they thought they got it right."He turns away, holstering his weapon and drawing a sidearm."My faction, as you would call it, exists in the fringes of South America. We exist to try and stop massive global corporations from developing superweapons. Iran, Iraq, Africa, Korea... We went through all of them. Mostly dealt with nukes. As to what we want, that's easy. We want to prevent another world war."As he says this, images of the third world war fill your mind, of the horror unleashed and the destruction visited upon the world."Now as to your creators, they are a tricky lot. They arrived after the old United states of America collapsed, and before it became the World Confederate peoples. They traded anything they could get their hands on, and were for the most part raiders. But they did a good business, and went on to claim over half of the good land, which they used for farming. They pretty much bent the world in two with that maneuver. Using the money they gained, they set up facilities like that one," Kyle says, pointing towards the shattered door. "To produce new technologies they could sell at a boomer price. Weapons, mostly. In fact, our little Guerrilla operation has been cleaning up THEIR messes for about sixty years."Distant voices are heard, and the sound of a helicopter is audible. Kyle blanches."Shit! Too much time dicking around! Come on, you have to follow me to the nearest compound!"

As you nod and trot steadily behind him through the thick underbrush, you try to recall what exactly the memorex told you...History, mostly. Common social interfaces- Machinery, weaponry, agricultural products and byproducts. You recognized all of the names Kyle gave you, as well as the truth to his statements. You also now know the five basic languages, and some archaic pronunciations. Currently, those five languages are German, Neo-Latin, English, French, and Portuguese.But what he said about you being a living weapon is particularly troubling. While moving, you begin to experiment with your extremities, testing flexibility, extension, and the like. Though it was a simple test, You found nothing out of the 'ordinary', as it were, save two two-inch bony barbs that came out from the backs of your hands reaching toward your fingers. They look hollow, like hypodermic needles, have the flexibility of a spring, and the strength of steel. This, you seem to know innately. This, it seems, is your only outward sign of 'mutation'."Oh, shit." Kyle has stopped now, and you see why. Ahead of you is a patrol- Two jeeps loaded with six soldiers each, all carrying fully automatic weaponry. "Stay down... Unless you think you can handle these guys?" Kyle appears nervous about this.

"Do you need support? I know you're a weapon and all, but..." Kyle is looking more towards the oncoming jeeps now, and he is slowly running his hands into his side pouch, which as you recall, houses his thermic blasters- Or, in leyman's terms, grenades.

>>5532287Your breath quiets, the world around you slows to a crawl. your aim is unwavering.PAK!PAK!PAK!PAK!PAK!PAK!Six seconds. One jeep down.The other soldiers are panicking. One of them has a .50 caliber sniper rifle. It's mounted to the jeep. Seems to be their primary weapon. You motion Kyle to get down, totally flat. A roar echoes through the area- you feel like someone punched you in the face. You fall to the ground, dazed.You hear Kyle cursing beside you, rolling you face up.His eyes widen at the sight he sees. Your vision is blurry, but on the whole you're OK. Sitting up, you feel around for the rifle. Grabbing it, you stand again and take aim, wiping some blood from your face.The last thing the sniper sees is his victim standing after a .50 caliber shot to the head, taking down his squadmates. Then, finally, his life ends in a bloody spray of grey matter and bone shards.You lower the MP5. twelve bullets gone. Kyle is visibly stunned."H...How in the hell... What... what happened?! I thought you would be... it was a fuckin' .50 Cal!"

>>5532408"As you said, I am a weapon." I turn to him, whiping the blood from my forehead with the back of my hand. "It will take more than a .50 to silence me." I click the safety on the MP5 and hand it back to him, turning back around as he takes the weapon.

((gettin late, guys, and I need to work tomorrow. Few more posts maybe, but I can continue this tomorrow evening, around 8:30-9:00 my time. Its 11:50 now for me.))>>5532465

"Uhh, right. Just this way." He pushes past you gingerly and leads the way. Moving at a fast pace, you cover exactly 26.3 miles through the course of the day before Kyle has to call a rest.Huffing and puffing, he is clearly exhausted, and you can see that it is getting dark."I need to rest. Personally I think that... camping here... Would be a wonderful plan."

"I carry most everything I need with me for extended periods." His chest swells somewhat at this."I have two hammocks and a tarp, as well as one hundred feet of nylon cord, a small hammer, and twenty five steel pegs. C-rations for two weeks, and enough water purification tablets to clean the Mississippi delta."Soaking all this in, you feel the place on your head where the round should have broken through your skull. Not even a fracture, and the cut you received from the impact is already stitching itself together. Impressive."Hey, the trees are pretty big around here, but they're evenly spaced. Must be Geneticode's prefab forest. At any rate, we can string up the hammocks for the night and continue tomorrow morning." Kyle is unloading a pack on his back now, and throws you a hammock which you deftly catch."Its simple in design, really. Just hammer in the spikes. Take a few reinforcement pegs just in case."

As I prepare the hammock, I search for information on Geneticode. According to my contact-provided information, the MP5 was manufactured by them, and according to Kyle, the forest was, as well. Intriguing.

"Will we be pursued?" I ask Kyle. "If we are likely to face further 'opposition', I should keep watch while you sleep." I smirk. "As you may have guessed, my physical requirements are somewhat different from yours."

[OPENING FILE...][...][GENETICODE- POWER-INDUSTRY THAT MONOPOLISED REMAINING RESOURCES AFTER THE THIRD WORLD WAR AND EVENTUALLY TOOK CONTROL OF THE GLOBE, SETTING UP PUPPET GOVERNMENTS IN THREE SEPARATE NATIONS:THE WORLD CONFEDERATE PEOPLES {WPC}THE UNITED MUSLIM NATIONS {UMN}AND THE AFRIKANER AGRICULTURAL COMMITTEE {AAC}][PRIMARY FUNCTIONS ARE: WEAPONS MANUFACTURER AND ARMS DEALERMAINSTAY OF GENETIC RESEARCH AND TESTINGARBITRATORS OF GLOBAL AGRICULTURAL COMMERCEGLOBAL PEACEKEEPERS]

...Well, looks like your 'parent company' is a little stronger than you thought."Pursued? Hell, we'll always be pursued. But we cant be hit by vehicles in here. There's thousands of miles of forest around here. By their accords we could be anywhere." Kyle starts climbing a nearby coniferous pine as he speaks."At worst, we may be stumbled upon by a line patrol. but those move very slowly, so it's a small chance. I'd say take a watch if you want. They probably wont find us that far up in the trees. After a day like today, you may very well need some rest, though." Kyle started hammering in his hammock, the tinking of his hammer the only other sound in this dead forest.That was what was odd... No animal life. Then again, remembering all the bio-weapons and WMD's used in the war, you're not all that surprised.

>>5532994I feel certain that I can go for days at a time with no rest, without any significant side effects. I would expect no less. However, my body might require some recuperation anyway, given recent events. Taking a bullet to the head is not something a reasonable person would describe as "unstressful".

It would be prudent to scout around a bit first, perhaps determine the likely direction any patrol would take. There might be footprints, a worn path, or even a scent. "How far do we need to travel?" I ask Kyle.

Calling down from the trees, he shouts, "We have about two hundred miles to go before we're met with anyone from the Guerrillas. We hafta watch until then. After about another day of travel, we'll hit the Bio-waste zone."[CROSS REFERENCING BIO-WASTE ZONE TO CURRENT MAPS...][...][BIO-WASTE ZONE- A ZONE OF PERPETUAL DEATH, CREATED BY THE OVERUSE OF CHEMICAL WARFARE ON HEAVILY POPULATED AREAS IN THE THIRD WAR. THE CHEMICALS ARE BACTERIAE BASED AND ARE SELF PERPETUATING, BUT HAVE A SHORT LIFESPAN. THEIR LIFE USUALLY CONSISTS OF FEEDING OFF OF OTHER DISEASES TO PROCREATE.]When we hit the bio-waste zone, we'll need to jack a vehicle at a geneticode listening post and make our way across, and hope to GOD that we encounter no chem-muties." Kyle has set up and appears to be tucking in for the night. Around the area, the trees are set up in what appears to be a random pattern. On closer inspection, though, all of the trees are alternating, and spaced as such to prevent the acidity of the earth from becoming too high or low. In addition, they are planted so that when the leaves fall, the biodegradable material is used as fertilizer for the other trees, due to lack of heavy underbrush. They also form a wind-barrier against soil erosion, and make the soil more fertile. Other than your passing, these forests have not been disturbed in over forty years. the only scents in the air is Kyle's, yours, and the scent of decaying earth and trees.

[ANALYZATION OF LOCAL FLORA][NORTHERN CONIFEROUS PINE-TREE][AGE - 47 YEARS, APPORXIMATELY][STRAINS OF MAPLE AND OAK PRESENT IN ANALYSIS][MIDWESTERN OAK TREE][AGE - 47 YEARS, APPROXIMATELY][PALM AND BIRCH STRAINS PRESENT IN ANALYSIS]

two trees. Minimal information on touch. But... you grin wickedly and remember the barbs on your hands. With a grunt, you jam one into the trunk of the thick tree.You are instantly aware. You see as the tree sees, feel as the tree does. You are taking energy from the tree... almost as if by vampirism. You quickly pull the distended barbs from the tree, leaving two dry holes where they once were. The slight sunlight filtering through the trees feels like water over your skin, as it cleans and refreshes your mind.For just a moment, you were the tree...Interesting... so that's what absorb meant. Apparently you gain the powers, abilities, knowledge and memories of whatever you devour.an Interesting development.

((Aright, ima call it a night. its waaaay early, and I really need to work. Night all, thanks for playing.))

- futaba + futallaby + yotsuba -
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